Field stood in the office of the Inland Revenue at Wandsworth with a
feeling that he had got on the right track at last. And yet this
discovery, which he had no reason to doubt, opened up the strangest
possibilities before him. He was face to face with a theory that
staggered him so greatly that he could not speak for a moment. And yet
he wondered why the idea had not occurred to him before.
"I suppose that you have not made any mistake?" he suggested.
The clerk was properly indignant. He was not there for the purpose of
making mistakes, besides, he had all the particulars entered in his
books.
"So that you can see for yourself," he said. "Look here, if you doubt
me. The entries tally absolutely with the figures you have on that slip
of paper. If there is anything wrong----"
"There is something very wrong indeed," Field admitted, "but that has
nothing to do with you. Do you do a large business in that kind of
stamped paper?"
"Well, rather, though not so large as we did. You see, those stamped
deeds are exclusively used by solicitors; practically, every legal
document is a stamped paper. But, nowadays, a good many lawyers get
their deeds engrossed on plain paper and send them to me to be forwarded
to Somerset House for the stamping."
"I see," Field said, thoughtfully. "In that case, you would have less
difficulty in recognizing anybody who purchased a parchment that was
already stamped? I wonder if you recognized the man who bought the one
we are talking about?"
"Oh, yes," came the ready reply. "The man's name is Acton. He is a law
stationer who does odd jobs for the different firms here. He is quite
broken down and shabby now, but I should say that at one time he was a
gentleman. You will see his business card hanging in a shop window at
the corner of Preston Street--a little news-shop on the right."
"I am greatly obliged to you," Field said. "I see the stamp is a two
pound ten one. Was it paid for in cash or in the form of a note?"
"A note--a L5 Bank of England note. I recollect getting Acton to endorse
it."
Field smiled to himself. Everything seemed to be going in his favour
now. He tendered five sovereigns across the counter and asked the favour
of the L5 note in exchange, which was granted. The note had a blue stamp
on it to the effect that it had been issued by the Wandsworth Branch of
the National and Counties Bank, and to that establishment Field wended
his way.
There a further piece of information awaited him. The note had been paid
out the day before to a messenger who had come from No. 100, Audley
Place, with a cheque drawn in favour of "self" by Mr. Carl Sartoris.
Field could not repress a chuckle. Everything was going on as smoothly
as he could expect.
"And now for Mr. Acton," he said to himself. "I wonder if I dare build
my hopes upon the theory that Sir Charles is--but that is out of the
question. Still, there is that doctor fellow with his marvellous
knowledge of Eastern mysteries. Hang me if I don't start from that
hypothesis when I've got this thing through."
It was an easy matter to trace Acton. Field found him in a dingy
bed-sitting-room, smoking vile tobacco and eagerly reading a sporting
paper. The occupant of the room turned colour when he caught sight of
his visitor. The recognition was mutual, but Field did not commit
himself beyond a faint smile.
"I--I hope there is nothing wrong," the occupant of the room stammered.
"That entirely depends upon you," Field replied. "So long as you tell
the truth----"
"I'll tell you nothing else," Acton said. He had risen now and was
standing with his back to the fire, a tall man with a pale face and
mournful eyes. "Look here, Field, there is no use playing with the fact
that you and I have met before. I was in a very different position then.
Now I am a broken man with no ambition beyond a wish to live honestly
and to keep out of sight of my friends. I write a good hand, as you
know. I have served my time for forgery. But since that I have never
done anything that is in the least wrong."
The speaker's words carried conviction with them.
"I am quite prepared to believe it, Mr. Acton," Field said. "All I want
is a little information. Tell me, have you done more than one piece of
work lately?"
"No. Only one. And that was just after ten o'clock to-day. A gentleman
came to me and said he was a lawyer who was just setting up here."
"What sort of man was he?" Field asked.
"Young and fair, with an easy assurance and manner. He had taken a house
in Park Road--name of Walters. There is a kind of annex to the house
that at one time had been used for a billiard-room, and this was to be
his office. I called upon the gentleman there by appointment. I didn't
go into the house proper, but I saw that the blinds and curtains were
up. The gentleman gave me a L5 note and asked me to go to the Inland
Revenue Office here and get a L2 10_s._ stamp on a skin of parchment.
When I got back he dictated a deed to me which I copied down for him."
"Do you recollect what it was about?" Field asked.
"Well, sir, I don't, except that it was some kind of assignment. The
names I quite forget. You see, one gets to be rather like a machine
doing that kind of work. The gentleman paid me seven shillings for my
trouble and asked me to call upon him again."
"And is that all you have to tell me?" Field asked.
"Everything, Mr. Field," Acton said. "I hope that you will not think
there is anything----"
"Not so far as you are concerned, certainly," Field hastened to say. "I
have only one more question to ask. Try and polish up your memory. Was
there any date inserted in that deed?"
"I can answer that question without the slightest hesitation. There was
no date inserted in the deed."
"'Um. The thing was so unusual that you were quite struck by the fact?"
"Not at all. Dates are never inserted in engrossed deeds. They are left
blank as to the day and the year. You see, there is so much delay in the
law. Sometimes the deeds are not executed for months after they are
signed. If the date was filled in and a delay of two months took place,
a new stamp would have to be purchased, and that means dead loss.
Whereas if the date is not put in till the deed is signed, that expense
is saved."
Field nodded his head in the manner of a man who is getting satisfaction
for his trouble.
"Then the date was no doing of yours," he said. "I fancy I'll run around
and see the young lawyer friend of yours. After that I may have to ask
you to accompany me to town. There is nothing for you to do besides
identifying your own handwriting. Don't go out till I come back."
Field hurried off to Park Road where at length he found the house that
he wanted. The curtains and blinds were up in the windows, but no amount
of knocking seemed to arouse anybody inside. Not that Field was
disappointed, for he had expected something like this. A few inquiries
elicited the fact that the house was in the hands of Messrs. Porden &
Co., down the street, and thither the inspector repaired. Nobody had
taken the house, he gathered, though a few people had been after it.
"Have you had anybody to-day?" Field asked. "I mean early to-day? A
tall, fair man with pleasant manners who gave the name of Walters?"
"Well, yes," the house-agent admitted. "He came and asked for the keys;
he left a card on my table, and here it is. It was early when he came,
and the boy was the only one in charge of the office, so that the
gentleman had to go over the house by himself."
"He found that it did not suit him?" Field suggested drily.
"No, he said it was too big for his requirements. He brought the keys
back two hours later."
"And didn't ask for any more, though you offered him the choice of many
houses?" Field smiled. "But what about the blinds and curtains in the
windows?"
"Oh, they belonged to the previous tenant. You see, we had to put in an
execution there for rent. The landlord desired the fittings to remain."
Field went away rather impressed by the cunningness of the dodge. The
whole thing was theatrical and a little overdone, but it was clever, all
the same. A short time later, and Field was on his way to London with
Acton for his companion.
Mr. Fleming was in the office disengaged and would see Inspector Field
at once. He glanced at the latter's companion but said nothing.
"I have been very successful," Field said without preamble. "I have made
some important discoveries. For instance, I have found the gentleman who
engrossed that deed. It was engrossed early this morning at a house in
Park Road, Wandsworth, by my companion. If you will show him the deed he
will be able to identify it at once."
But Mr. Fleming did not do business in that way. He took two deeds and
folded them so that a portion of each could be seen. Then he laid them
both on the table and asked Acton to pick out the one that he had done.
All law stationers' writing is very much alike, but Acton had not the
slightest difficulty in picking out his.
"That is the one, sir," he said. "That is the one that I wrote to-day."
Fleming admitted that the choice was a correct one. He spread out the
deed now and proceeded to examine it gravely through his glasses. "Did
you put in the date?" he asked.
"No, sir," Acton replied. "There was no date. That is a forgery. It is
not badly done, but you can see that it does not quite tally with the
body of the deed. Besides, the ink is slightly darker. Look at that 'e,'
too, in the word 'nine.' I never write that kind of 'e'--you will not
find one like it in the body of the deed."
Fleming was bound to admit that such was the case. Field thanked Acton
for the trouble he had taken, and dismissed him. Then he came back to
the office.
"Well, sir, are you quite satisfied now?" he asked. "Is there any
reasonable doubt that----"
"No doubt that the deed purporting to have been signed so long ago was
only written to-day. So far as that is concerned, you have proved your
case up to the hilt, Field. Nobody is going to gain anything by the
publication of that deed. But there is one thing that sticks, and I
cannot get it down at all--the genuineness of that signature."
"It does look like a real signature," Field admitted. "But you want to
suggest that Sir Charles came back from the grave to-day to write it? I
wonder if there is something new in the way of forgery--some means
whereby a genuine signature could be transformed from one paper to
another without injuring the ink in the slightest. They say they can
take all the paint off a picture and place it on a new canvas without so
much as injuring a brush mark. That being the case, why couldn't it be
done with a man's signature?"
Fleming bit the end of his pen thoughtfully.
"It may be possible that some cunning rascal has invented an entirely
new process," he said. "But anyway, I'm prepared to swear to the
genuineness of this signature. There is only one other way to account
for the whole business, and as a sane man who has long come to years of
discretion, I am almost afraid to mention it to a business man like
yourself."
Field looked up quickly.
"I have a little hesitation also," he said, "because you may have
laughed at me. Is it possible, sir, that you and I have hit upon the
same theory?"
The two men looked at each other, and there was a long silence between
them.